


After Father Went to Heaven (AFWtH)

by x1L3550Nx



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3, Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Fallout 4 x Fallout 3, Far Harbor Settlement (Fallout), First Work in this Format/Platform, Multiple Sole Survivors, Nuka-World Amusement Park (Fallout), Post-game: Fallout 4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:27:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28361676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x1L3550Nx/pseuds/x1L3550Nx
Summary: The world is made up by Man, and Mankind is made up by the choices they make and those choices have consequences. Therefore, the world is made up of Mankind's consequences. The Sole Survivors went with the Minutemen into the Institute. Ruven Allen, was the biological father of Shaun.In the Brotherhood, Danse and Maxson are at odds with one another at what to do. Now that the Institute is gone so is their reason for being in the Commonwealth. Unless, of course, Maxson wishes to impose his will upon the Commonwealth via the panoply of war or influence. The Prywedn, after all, is a pretty persuasive card in Maxson's deck. The mayor of Dimond City has been exposed as a synth and killed. The committee has yet to elect a new mayor but some suspect that Ruven will be elected. Piper's reputation has skyrocketed... in the good way of course.The Railroad and Minutemen have a de facto alliance. The Minutemen's attempts of neutrality with the Railroad potentially vilifies them with the Brotherhood. Meanwhile, static is brewing in the uncharted areas of Far Harbor and Nuka-World. While the Minutemen celebrate, a potentially greater foe lurks near Sanctuary. Waiting to strike...
Relationships: Amata Almodovar/Male Lone Wanderer, Cait/Male Sole Survivor, Male Sole Survivor/Piper Wright
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

Intro

"And he said unto me, It is done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely. He that overcometh shall inherit all things; and I will be his God, and he shall be my son."

Revelation 21:6-7 KJV

https://www.bible.com/1/rev.21.6-7.kjv Accessed May 9, 2019

-/AFW2H\\-

War... war doesn't change...  
It did, however, change me...

"Cruz? Ada? It's time." I said, my voice being projected through my power armor, "Amata? Danse? It's been a pleasure."

"Back at you."

"It's been a pleasure, civilian. Ad Victoriam."

I put one mechanized fist in the other and applied pressure, popping my fingers. After popping the other hand, I took my automatic shotgun, loaded a drum onto it and test spun the special Ripper bayonet.

"Audaces fortuna iuvat."*

I kicked the Castle keep door open and hit the jump boosters before landing atop an enemy soldier. He collapsed into the dirt unharmed, he never got the chance to scramble up as I put my foot down on his chest and ripped an arm and leg off with my free hand.

Then I curb stomped his braincase into powder and began to let a familiar instinct take over me. I didn't pay attention to my victims' skin fraying thread by thread before my very eyes as I tore, nor their silenced screams, or the bullets that came down like rain. The ashes, the smells, they were all familiar to me as I embraced the inner nature war has given me.

The nature to rip and tear, until it is done...

I swatted another enemy aside like a fly, blood spitting from his mouth as I did, and I ran through the soldiers towards a Hellfire Knight. Using my momentum I stabbed my Ripper bayonet into her, causing her to shuffle back a few steps. Turning on the chainsaw I took it out, and swiped her exposed neck with the Ripper before kicking her armored head clean from her shoulders.

I cussed when a plasma bolt hit above my kidneys and I launched into the air. Drop kicking two men upon a butt-to-dirt landing I got up and began making spaghetti toppings with my shotty. Once I hit empty, I was reloading when someone in power armor kicked me, snapping my shotgun like a twig.

"You know," the heavily armored soldier said through his helm, "you shouldn't have listened to the ex-Sentinel. I shouldn't have listened to him all those years ago."

A/N: *Latin: Fortune favors the audacious.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This special forces squadron was in the retaking of Anchorage together, were sent to China together, and were frozen in Vault 111 together. The American forces in China during the Sino-American War fought through myriads of commies with the advent of mechanized infantry aka power armor. The horrors they faced made the wasteland a walk in the park but although war never changes, the men and women were never the same after what they faced.
> 
> The psychological stress is clearest in Ruven Allen who had his wife killed in front of him. Then he found out that his son was leader of the Institute and did what he had to do. No one knows that his son was leader of the malevolent group.  
> Roles:  
> Ruven Allen/Iron Man—Squad Leader
> 
> Nathan Drew/Gawd—Sniper
> 
> Aella Clementine/Cupid—Spotter
> 
> Roger Nix/Noir—Infiltration
> 
> George McFellan/Ashman—Pyro
> 
> Alex Manning/Shades—Intel gathering and Radio
> 
> Samson Grimes/Knuckles—Trench and Informant Duster (calls himself One Punch Man)
> 
> Richard Ryan/Howler—Battle Assassin

" _ **Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.**_ "

_**—Murphy's Law** _

Ruven Allen/Iron Man's pov

You killed your own son. My conscience reminded me as I sucked in the ichor of the gods. Jet made me feel like the memories were fading away but I think it just made my recollections... slower.

You're not my son, I said, the son I had died with his mother. Both of their lives were stolen from me.

I had fought a war, ripped and tore my way through myriads of Commies with the preconceived premise of watching my son grow up. We should have went fishing, hunting, and played baseball together. Or if he was an inside type, we could have painted, watched TV, or played charades with Nora and Codsworth.

You were raised by thieves, I spat at the old man, you were raised by kidnappers who stole everything that I held dear in this world!

The echo of my laser musket blasted in my ears. Phantom pain invaded my throat from when I held his body and screamed. I felt like I was in a time capsule of that moment and couldn't get out.

"Ruven?" A distant voice said.

My efforts were in vain, my son's life was stolen from me. Stolen from him! We should've been-

"Blue? Are you okay?"

I sat up and my drugged gaze landed on the brunette at my door. The Caucasian girl removed her newsboy hat respectfully, and holding her hat close she stepped into the room with caution. Concern oozed from her mannerisms, her face dripped with pity, confusion even and it made me sick.

"What Piper?"

"Oh nothing," she started sarcastically, playfully saying, "just checking to see why a blue-spandex-wearing friend of mine is so... blue."

"Oh?" I stretched my back and spat back, "Do I know this guy? Maybe he's not in the mood."

"The smarty-pants I know is always in the mood. I just gotta stick to my guns for just a second and the gruff goof falls in line just like a little puppy."

I laughed, it was hollow but a hollow reprieve is better than none at all. "That's what you call it? Is it a cute pre-war puppy or a two headed mutant hound puppy?"

She barely contained a laugh and pulled up a chair from the kitchen, placing it in front of me. She plopped down and set her chin on the back of the reversed chair, shaking her head. "You got a vivid imagination don't you? Got any you can spare?"

"Nope," I drily said, grabbing another Jet from the crate next to me, "guy named Jet took it all."

She didn't appreciate this one bit. You wanna know how I found out? The serious look on her face after she swatted the plastic inhaler from my fingers made me freeze. When her brown eyes burned into me it turned my brain into something resembling green mush. "What the hell is wrong with you Blue? Everyone has been celebrating the fall of the Institute for months but here you are. Shaun is wondering what's wrong with you, what am I supposed to tell him?"

I'm trying to forget Piper. In a flare of anger I held in the retort, she doesn't know what that boy Shaun really is. I started twisting the old wedding ring on my finger anxiously and didn't even realize it.

"Why do you always do that?"

"What?"

"Fiddle with your ring, goofball."

You remind me of her... the woman whose life was stolen from me. And all I could do was watch. Of course, that'd be an incredibly awkward thing to say at the moment so I opted for silence. Piper sighed, "Look you know chems aren't my cup of tea. Chem usage isn't the problem," she pointed at the shattered plastic not far from us, "this is abuse and everyone with half a brain knows this isn't you. So please, please Blue, come and hangout with us. We'll help you through whatever's bothering you, okay?"

She patted the back of my hand, slipped her hat on, blew a rebellious tuft of hair from her face and then left the room. I was alone in my living room, only the echo of the closed door and the sound of water dripping from the ceiling into pots and cups was there to give me company. With a sigh I got up, made myself presentable and joined the others outside.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 1.1

Butcher Pete was still playing in slow motion when I joined the others. The sound of gunfire interrupted the music here and there but no one was bothered by it. We knew it was either the children competing for pre-war snacks or the adults competing for hard caps. That and bragging rights, the hotshots always liked bragging rights. I imagine that MacCready was somewhere in the middle of all that noise. The only two people I saw competing off to themselves were Gawd and Cupid who were pulling trick shots with pistols as they tossed bottles and cans into the air.

There was a roar from a group surrounding a table on my right as I walked out of my home. It appears Cait won another arm wrestling match. Howler stood close by, analyzing how Cait placed her arm in a way that she could overpower her stronger, male opponents. No doubt he was analyzing the woman's exposed neckline due to the corset as well. Hancock eyed me darkly as I passed and I ignored it going towards the workshop.

Crossing the street Preston and I shared a nod as he made his rounds and spied Shaun and Piper watching people do jovial dancing under the overhang. For the first time in a long while, I smiled, seeing everyone attempt steps of the Swinging Charleston, the Jitterbug, or pieces and bits of East or West Coast swing they picked up from war torn magazines. I bet Hancock or some other ghouls remember.

That being thought, the old Vault-Tec representative was trying to teach a few steps. Approaching Piper and Shaun the- robot got up from his seat with a huff and disappeared into the house. I snorted in disdain and took his seat next to the brunette reporter. She branded me with a suggestive look saying that I should talk to Shaun, a message which I ignored. After a sigh she and I sat in silence as we watched the grand jubilee.

The time slow effects of the jet from earlier finally left my system. I popped my neck and got comfortable. I was always a good chemist.

It wasn't long until an idea was written all over Piper's grin and side looks at me.

"Wanna dance Blue?"

I raised a brow, "You know how to dance?"

"Call it a guilty pleasure."

"Then let's start with some good ole Jitterbug."

I took her hand and, to our surprise, dragged her onto the floor. As I did so, Travis-from the radio- began, "I'm extra glad to say that I got some new music! Found in the wasteland by an incredibly thoughtful Diamond City Reporter grab a partner and enjoy Jerry Lee Lewis' Great Balls of Fire and Bill Haley's See You Later, Alligator." A knowing, mischievous smirk widened on Piper's face as we took each other's hands.

"You knew he was getting ready to play these didn't you?" I said as I freed a hand and quickly put my Black Rimmed Glasses in a pocket of Reginald's suit and tossed my Tribly Hat onto the weapons workbench. "You're always full of surprises Piper."

"You too Blue, you too."

I was distracted by Hancock's cold gaze on us. Murderer, he had called me. Piper waiting for my lead brought me back to the present. Throwing myself into the dance I hadn't realized how starved for enjoyment I was as I juked n' jived with Great Balls of Fire blasting in my ears. Having listened to this song in my youth I knew it was short, less than two minutes, and boy, Piper was swingin'. We began facing one another, our hands gently intertwined before we pushed into one another's hands to propel our bodies back. Stepping back with my left foot, Piper performed her part with the opposite foot. Then we pulled each other's hands gently, moving closer together with the opposite feet we started with, performing a solid rock step. Then the party began and I stepped and leaned, left, right, left, right and even threw in the triple step till the song's downhill slide.

Testing her moves and wanting to end with a flourish I led her into a underarm turn, inside turn and finally the Cuddle step. Halfway into a triple step, I performed an inside turn, drawing a counter-clockwise semi-circle over her head, turning her face away from me. She didn't resist the move but naturally glided her left hand across her stomach to my right one and we finished the last half of the triple step in the cuddle position. I finished the dance, spinning her back to her starting spot just as Great Balls of Fire ended.

I didn't even notice everyone watching us until they started clapping. Cait hooted from her arm wrestling ring, "Ey'! I'm almost wet just watching Pipes!"

Piper flushed red muttering as she fanned herself, "I-is it me or is it hot in here?"

Giving her a playfully flirty smile, "It's you."

"O-oh, t-that-that's cool!" She stammered.

Once the first 'See ya later, alligator' at the beginning of the next song sounded, something horrible happened. It was so fast, a pulse grenade hit a guard post on the walls around Sanctuary. The turrets next to the watchman exploding from the pulse did more damage to the wall and the guard than the grenade. That said, the ensuing chain of explosions from one grenade blasted the guard off the wall in a bloody mess and almost wrecked the wall.

Everyone wasn't shocked by the display of gore the explosion caused, nor the loud thunderous sound, no, the horror came from unexpected the timing of it all. What came after compounded the feeling exponentially, a trio of soldiers clad in black power armor rammed through the wall. Watching in shocked horror two of the three unleashed an auto plasma rifle and the other a Gatling laser. The third made a show of popping the maimed, screaming guard's head under his boot in a swift stomp.

Muttering a curse I dragged and basically threw Piper into the house just as bolts of plasma began melting the wall behind us now. A chaotic cacophony of screams and disorder erupted as the 100 men & women of Sanctuary who weren't armed rushed to get their weapons. Standing up I gripped Piper's shoulders and barked desperately,

"Nora, you need to-" I realized what I did and it was equivalent to having slapped her, "Piper, find Shaun and regroup at Diamond City."

"What about you Blue?! What about Sanctuary?!"

"I need to get my power armor from the Red Rocket!"

Peering through the hole in the wall the plasma made, I spied at the least a dozen normal infantry joining the fray as the power armor baddies soaked up whatever light arms fire we quickly mustered. The situation was looking bleaker and bleaker by the second. If only I had my guns! I mentally cursed.

"Blue," Piper embraced me from behind, her chest in my back, "stay safe."

"For the Commonwealth!" A familiar voice yelled from a distance. The echo of the six-crank laser musket that I had given Preston, and the scream of a power armored soldier shortly followed. Instead of tumbling over like Brotherhood frames, the suit locked in place before a foot soldier went to pull the body out and hop into the armor. It was then Piper and I went through a window into the melon patch and I vaulted a worn picket fence as Piper blended into the schools of refugees.

I hope you can find him Piper, despite everything.

I ran into the street leading to the bridge towards Concord. Once I first hit pavement however, I noticed that we were in the middle of a two pronged attack. However Ashman emerged from the house closest to the cooking station with his staple minigun, Ashmaker, wearing a 'kiss the chef' apron. Coming around the corner, with the minigun already spinning, he did a lazy spray on the enemies in front of him as if it were a flamethrower. Having lit them all ablaze the light infantry began to twirl around in flames, some stop-drop-and rolling to put out the flames. Then, George concentrated fire on the armored infantry that were now almost in arms reach before the fire from constant incendiary rounds being spat at four-thousand rounds per minute became too much. They bailed out of their power armor and ran for the river but died halfway from their burns.

Having bought only less than a minute, Minutemen came from behind him with buckets of water and sloshed it on the power armors. Once the first one wasn't burning Ashman threw his apron over the armor and hopped in before I advanced. Kicking a plasma rifle from a burning soldier, I rolled it in the mud to cool it off. The rifle came back muddy and red.

"Ruven!"

"To the rocket!" I shouted before shooting two scrubs who emerged from another breach in the wall we installed around Sanctuary, the plasma turning one's muscle and skin tissues into green goop.

I hopped into one of the three hijacked power armors and took a deep breath. The Heads-Up Display was jacked the hell up but I could also hear a COMM. That's interesting...

I haven't seen COMM's in two hundred years. The damage was simply too much though so all I could hear was mostly cackling, clicking and a few words. That and the war around me. Laser muskets and small arms fire began blending in with the growing sound of plasma bursts.

"I'll cover ya!"

"After I'm gone, get everyone out of Sanctuary!"

"We're in a rout!"

"Then cover their retreat! I'll be over in three minutes at the most!"

"Aye-aye!"

My feet thundered over the ancient and crumbling bridge and caused it to groan. Once across, plasma bolts started whizzing over my head. Snipers. I heard a hiss and watched as a rocket finished off the bridge that stood two hundred years in the test of time. Steeling my resolve I kept going, I wasn't separated from the others.

Sprinting, plasma was being thrown at me like rain. Once I was closer to my location, my little turret purred to life and started spitting lead. Positioning the power armor between the pumps, I initiated the self destruct protocols, got out of the borrowed suit and ran inside. Clambering to the fridge we installed, I opened my chem stash and injected Psychojet into my neck with an erotic groan. I popped some Buffats as time seemed to move at a snail's pace. Washing it down with a swig of Whiskey, I tossed the bottle out the window.

Oh... my mind thought, they've been shooting at me this whole time? A door to my left slid open so I ran to the right, towards my power armor. The green flames of a plasma thrower licked behind me, in the garage I hopped into my shark XO-1 power armor and grabbed my gear before the hijacked suit self destructed. I hit the thrusters in my jet pack and burst through the ceiling and safely into the air. Landing my vents in my boots swirling up dust, I casually prepped my weapons.

Spray n'Pray, Gronorak's Axe, Pickman's Blade and Zeus, my six-crank musket that did double to enemies who weren't hurt for some odd reason. Not to mention some grenades and my power armor. Passing maimed or crippled enemies that tried to pursue me I grabbed as many of their grenades as I could. Once I was getting shot at, I didn't shoot them, I didn't throw a grenade at them, I never even pulled a weapon.

I just leapt into the fray. The blast vents crippled the light infantry and caused their armored men to stagger. Pulling the rings on their grenades I leapt out again, now at the foot of the statue outside Sanctuary. What I saw next, even through the Psycho, broke my heart.

"My God."

I spied at least three dozen hellcats accompanied by light infantry. In the distance, a Minuteman was being ripped out of his T-45. The man's bald head shined in the sunlight, Preston. The hellcats pulling him out then ripped his arm off, hit him with it and tossed it aside before taking him prisoner. Minutemen, men, woman and children were being dragged from their places, bewildered at the flames around the town, and too weak to resist any further.

Plasma bolts from the river hit me in the chest but my armor tanked it. Pulling out my Tommy Gun I super jumped off the ledge and onto the river bank, spraying the snipers with explosive rounds. I started running, clearing most of the river bank. The fighting attracted attention and I was in a run for my life as I jumped across the river.

Behind enemy lines, I passed several bodies, mostly people from Sanctuary as I pushed towards the others. It started to all become to much! These were people I knew, everyone except one or two people from the world before the war was dead. I cut my way through Commies telling myself that I was making a brighter, safer future for my family. That was stolen from me, now everything else I have fought for seemed lost.

"Piper?!" I shouted, "Team?!"

"Hostile!" Was my only reply. I emptied the rest of my clip into an armored soldier, making him fall back, I put away my SMG and grabbed my axe. Time finally began to be restored just as rage began to fill me, if everything is gone. No...

"NO!!" I leapt into the air and landed atop the soldier, breaking his armor into pieces and crushing his chest. Lifting the axe overhead I plunged the blade into monster's chest cavity.

Then his head. Then-

A shot hit me in the back of my helmet and knocked me forward. A dozen hellcats and infantry were on my tail and I started running, hoping to catch up with the others. Digging into my back I clumsily took a hit of Ultra Jet and kept going. The chaos, trauma and Jet made me forget where exactly I was, how far was I running exactly? It wasn't until I collapsed at the edge of the Old Gullet Sinkhole that I realized I was alone.

"Get their leader! Don't let him escape!"

They found out? Someone amongst the Prisoners Of War must have ratted me out. I turned and although surrounded I started cranking up Zeus but as I let a shot off they unloaded on me. We weren't 20 yards from one another and the kinetic energy from the plasma barrage knocked me into the hole. My Ultra Jet was wearing off when I heard an ominous growl.

I pushed myself up from the flowing water under me. Next, I made eye contact with a giant horned lizard. Friggin Deathclaw. The beast came out and I hurriedly cranked Zeus but too late. Mr. Maws and Claws batted my tired and exhausted form down and began clawing the hell outta me. Left, right, left, right.

Small green explosions flashed across its back and it roared in pain. When the Deathclaw turned, it's tail slapped slapped my bleeding and helpless body into the current leading deeper into the sinkhole. Just before I went unconscious, I thought I heard Piper's voice, Nora, Shaun but all that didn't matter when I fell asleep in this grave.

A/N: & this is why I don't socialize. It makes you vulnerable to Enclave attack... wanna learn to Jitterbug?

-Begin facing your partner with your hands clasped gently in front of you.

-Press into one another's hands to propel your bodies back. The lead should step back with his left foot, while the follower steps back with her right.

-Pull one another's hands gently to move closer together, stepping forward with the opposite foot. Together, steps two and three are called the rock step.

-The leader steps and leans to the left while the follower steps and leans to the right.

-The leader steps and leans to the right while the follower steps and leans to the left.

-Repeat steps two through five as many times as desired at a pace of quick, quick, slow, slow.

***


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!

Chapter 1.2

A few moments earlier...

Col. Adam Buzz's pov

"General Autumn," I said in my COMM as my men ripped off a man's arm and slapped him with it, mocking his right to bear arms, "the town is secure."

Then there was an explosion across the river so large that some of the debris clattered down from the sky near to me. Chaos followed on the COMMs and I never heard Autumn's reply. What kind of madman-?!

"The General is gonna kill you all!" The maimed man said, "All of you!"

General?

"Hold him men." I walked over to him and leaned down to get eye level with him, "Where is your General?"

He grit his teeth in defiance as his response.

"Tenacious, loyal, how admirable but loud-mouthed, impulsive and stupid." I stood and flamboyantly asked all those around me, "Anyone who has information on the whereabouts of your General will be rewarded generously."

A ghoul, in old Vault-Tec representative garb pointed to two statues on a hill in the distance. Observing it for a moment I realized that one statue moved. Power armor, heavily modified. I radioed, a finger to my ear, "Pack 1, 2 & Murder 1. See that man on the hill? Do not let him escape, chase him to the ends of the earth and capture him alive if possible."

They affirmed and the chase began... beautiful-

"Colonel Buzz," the old man said in my ear, "did you hear what I just told you?"

"No sir," I replied, "there was a-" I glanced at the growing clouds of smoke, "little resistance nearby."

"Come up to my office in 111."

"Sgt. Thomas," I pointed at the soldier, "see that the ghoul is fed and treated well. As for the others, imprison them in a conducive manner. Also, have a scribe question the ghoul further."

"Yes, sir."

After that was taken care of, I walked up the hill past several more platoons of our men and women. We've grown much since the defeat ten years ago in DC. Before, we were like a large band of outlaws, running from the mere thought of our enemies catching us. This however has taught us a valuable lesson, carefulness.

Descending down into the vault the first things you see are the crypts below the walkway and one you must pass before you go further into the Vault. Some "Nora Allen" laid at rest above all the others, a lit candle, and freshly picked flowers were in a vase close to it. Someone cared about this grave, I thought sardonically as I passed. I then took a shortcut through the escape tunnel to the Overseer's office, which was now General Autumn's office.

The Ink Spots', Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall played and seemed to echo in the cold and metal room. I watched him as he waved his hand about as if it were riding the music. Sometimes I wonder if the past decade has... changed him.

"Sir, what are you doing?"

The song ended and once the boy who announced himself as Travis started talking the General made an Ah-ha! hand gesture.

"Gathering intel, dear Colonel."

Within the next minute or two we learned, albeit from a questionable source, that the Minutemen General came from this Vault. He had also raised up a formidable militia army and is considered a savior, celebrity, and leader amongst the Commonwealth citizenry. His fortress is and was Sanctuary and The Castle. The General also defeated the Institute and now the Brotherhood is breathing down their necks and harassing civilians under Minuteman protection. The Minutemen have checkpoints throughout the Commonwealth and have been doing a surprising job against raiders and wildlife. Finally we learned that Travis was from Diamond City, the jewel of the Commonwealth, most likely the capital and place the refugees are fleeing to.

All in about a minute of listening and deductive reasoning.

"The time really is ripe isn't it?"

"Not that we now know that the Brotherhood is here. But yes, this all can do quite nicely, all we need to do is spark the powder between the Minutemen and the Brotherhood and possibly enjoy the show."

***

Present

Ruven Allen/Iron Man's pov

Have you ever had the feeling of sucking your brain back up your nose? That was me when I woke up to a gurgling sound. I tried to sit up with extreme effort and caught a glimpse of what was making the sound. A woman in a Vault suit was sawing through a man's hands, one of my pursuers, as he tried to protect his throat. Laying down flat again, I was too weak to move as I listened to the woman's blade find home, slicing his throat, and tossing his body into the water flowing past us.

"Why was the Enclave after you?" The woman asked, her back to me as she washed her blade off in the water.

"I-I don't know." I muttered, cold and exhausted.

"I'm sure you do." She said darkly, fingering her knife.

"I'm not necessarily sure what this Enclave is, b-but I'm the General of the Minutemen."

"That's nice," she said her voice disarming, "as much of a reason as it is an introduction. I'm Amata."

Coughing I croaked, "I'm exhausted."

She went over to her bags, digging around for something, "So you really don't know what the Enclave is?" She found what she was looking for and was coming back to me.

"No-"

Then she unceremoniously stabbed me in the neck... with a stimpak. Realizing that she didn't kill me I let out a sigh of double relief as the stim started fixing my wounds.

"You can't just-"

"You're welcome," Amata laughed, helping me up, "I'm surprised that you're alive. You're lucky, that plasma did a number on you and your wounds from the Deathclaw bled a ton."

We started walking, looking for a way out of the underground cave we were in.

"Pfft," I grimaced, "I'm not that lucky. You from around here?"

"Capital Wasteland," she pointed a thumb to her Vault suit, "101. Yes, I was dweller. You have no bloody idea how many times I get asked that."

"Hmph, I can imagine," I grimaced, stepping down some rocks, "what are you doing in the Commonwealth?"

Her tone took on a far away hue as she droned, "Hunting the Enclave for what they did to my Vault, and avoiding someone."

"Who are you avoiding?"

"The man who killed my father."

  
  


***

Chapter 1.3

Ex-Sentinel Albert Cole's pov (aka Lone Wanderer)

Everyone eyed the 101 on my back cautiously as I walked through Diamond City. The guards would stiffen as I passed, as if I were wearing my nigh-indestructible prototype Winterized T-51b. A girl waved a paper to me.

"Heya mister! You new here?"

The fact that this little girl wasn't intimidated by me brought a smile to my face.

"Yeah, I am."

I don't know why but this girl reminded me of the first time I met Sarah's junior-scribe protégé, Arthur Maxson. He was intimidated by me when we first met but he had warmed up to me before-

Before Sarah died.

"Whatcha got there kid?"

"Publick Occurrences! Finest paper in the Commonwealth, Vault dweller! Say, where are you from, mister?"

"D.C."

"That's cool! Here! It's free for newcomers!"

"Nice kid, hey Charon!" I shouted back to the ghoul catching up with me down the steps, "You want a paper?"

"No thanks, boss."

I squinted past him.

"What?"

At that moment a large group of ash, mud and blood covered people started half-running, half-falling down the steps of the stairs. The town was quickly filled with maimed, wounded and dead... the people carrying them either hadn't realized it or refused to accept it. Maybe they wanted them buried here, I had no clue.

"Sanctuary has been taken. Taken by the Enclave!" Someone shrieked.

My face was a flat line but my mind flittered back to Col. Augustus Autumn and the moment my father died. Run, he said, as the hairs on his head fell off right before my eyes. Nothing but glass and radiation separating me from my dying father. After all I had done to find him he died right in front of me.

Heh, a friend of mine once said, "I hope you never figure out what it's like to have your father die right in front of you." It was like foreshadowing in a book. Back in the present a woman in a red trench coat tugged a boy along and then swallowed the paper girl in an embrace. Not even caring about the mud caked to her.

"Piper?! What's happening?!"

"It's a long story, Nat. Look, can you and Shaun go inside?"

The mud caked boy hiding behind Piper was looking at the ground, clearly traumatized. I watched as more and more wounded were getting dragged in and Nat began to stare. Piper guided her eyes into hers.

"Can you do that sis?"

Nat nodded and did as her sister bid her. I watched as Piper retreated to a bench and got into the fetal position. Burying her head in her arms. After a moment of reflection and assessment I ordered, "Charon, have Fawkes get more caps after you get food and drinks for all these people. I will offer assistance to the doc."

3rd person pov

Diamond City became awash with refugees. Guards were helping carry the weak and weary, families were keening, children meandered around asking where their family was and in the middle of all this a stranger leant a generous helping hand. Charon, after wasting a few words at the noodle stand went to Vadim.

"I need to make an order." Charon was never the polite or charismatic type.

"Oh no," Vadim said, "we don't serve your kind here."

Charon merely scowled, growling out, "Fine, smoothskin."

"VAAADIIIMMM!"

The bartender laughed, "I kid! I kid! What did you need friend?"

"Enough food and drink for a hundred refugees."

The bar got deathly quiet and Rose stopped sweeping, exclaiming, "What?"

"I'll give whoever helps me hand out all this crap all 1,000 cap tips."

"YEEEEFIIIIMM!! You better get up here right now brother!"

"I'll get Travis!" Rose cried.

That motivated them. Soon the whole town was helping, some refugees were from Sanctuary and others were from supply caravans attacked by the same foe. The ex-Sentinel made a good first impression on the citizens of Diamond City. Piper sat at the bench and never moved her eyes away from the entrance, waiting for the General to return.

Despite the town coming together, several important people were still missing. Nick had disappeared unannounced a few days ago, leaving an odd note behind. Cait, Howler, and Ashman had been separated from the main group and pushed towards an odd radio signal. While others on the squad were doing things completely different, although oblivious to the threat facing the Commonwealth.

And one of them was Roger Nix, codenamed: Noir…


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 1.4

Noir also known as... The Silver Shroud

Magnolia, getting off early in the morning after working a long night was walking, alone down an alley. Six goons, new to Goodneighbor, ignorant of who's turf they were on started messing with Magnolia. Luckily Kent overheard the event unfolding as he was making his way to the Memory Den! Practically running to the radio he started,

"Silver Shroud! Magnolia is in a heap of trouble not far from the Third Rail! You need to go quick!"

At the moment of this broadcast Roger Nix, mayor of Goodneighbor until Hancock's return, was sitting at his desk, reading Piper's latest paper, as Fahrenheit put his coffee in front of him with a saucer. The exact second the distress call hit his ears he snapped to attention.

"Oh?" He said with a melodramatic hue creeping into his voice, "Did you hear that?"

Fahrenheit sighed, "I'll close the office."

Once she did, zippers unzipped, buttons unbuttoned and in a few moments Roger Nix was in his tightie-whities, his expensive suit, black rim glasses, and slacks neatly folded on his desk. He pressed his hand to a hidden button on the wall and part of it slid back. Fahrenheit observed from the door, used to this by now.

"Go on, keep going."

She said it in such a way that Roger was unsure if she meant to keep stripping or go ahead and get ready. He went ahead and started putting the costume on.

"George would kill me."

"Not if he didn't know." Fahrenheit said in her odd condescending tone.

Finishing the costume, he put his chrome aviator shades on with a flourish and said in movie-like fashion, "I'll be back" before vaulting out the window. Running to the location of the ruckus he checked his weapons. Deliverer? Check. Silver Tommy? Check. Grenades just in case? Check. With his momentum he slid into the center of the alley and began walking towards the goons.

"What's this? The tools of evil trying to FOIL the flowers of INNOCENTS?"

"Do who?" A triggerman said.

"Who in the hell is this?" Another crowed.

"Shroud!" Magnolia cried, "Thank God you're here!"

"Worry not, for the visage of RIGHTEOUSNESS will not suffer your beauty to be defiled! You FELONS! Prepare to taste DEATH!"

"Shoot him," someone drawled lazily and a shotgun kicked Nix on his butt into the street. When the goons continued to harass Magnolia, Roger groaned thinking, Thank God, & Tinker Tom for that Lvl.5 Ballistic Weave.

"You- FOOLS!" Roger bellowed, getting up, "Behind this Shroud is the face of JUSTICE! And JUSTICE is BULLETPROOF! You MALEVOLENT FIENDS! Your demise shalt be swift!"

"Holy crap! It IS the Shroud!"

Time seemed to slow down as Roger mentally locked onto all six of their heads. Then he drew The Deliverer, a special silenced 10mm from the Railroad, and killed all six of them with such accuracy that Doc Holiday would be jealous. In three seconds, six men were brain dead or becoming brain dead. Finally with a dramatic twirl, Nix holstered his weapon.

"Are you alright civilian? Did these COCKROACHES of HELL touch thee?"

"Bravo, Shroud, bravo! And no, I'm fine, thanks to you."

"Y-you're most welcome ma'am! N-now! Since justice has been served~ I must go."

Before Roger could leave Magnolia asked, her voice suggestive, "Oh, my knight in silver! Could you please help a tired girl to her room? Perhaps refresh yourself?"

The Shroud knew she was using her charms on him. The fact that he is who he is shows an almost blatant kick for melodrama and she was using it as a wedge. Nix smiled and~ (want the X-rated version? Tell me so...)

  
  


***

Elsewhere, around midday, was Samson Grimes. A man, alone on a pier, dangling his feet over the side. It would seem to most that he were fishing, with the bucket laying close to him and the fishing rod, already cast, and waiting on a rack for a bite. However there was something else close to Grimes- no, there were three more things.

One was a Mirelurk Hunter getting ready to launch at him.

The other two?

Only once the Hunter pounced did it realize the folly of its efforts. Grimes, aka Knuckles, grabbed his two power fists and gave the beast a stiff right in the eye by luck. No one in the Commonwealth knew that he was the absolute luckiest man in the Wasteland.

Not even him really...

Killing the beast with a OHKO he grumbled to no-one, "What? No Mirelurk King?"

With a sigh Samson got up and jumped into the water to drag the monster out so he could skin it. It was also at this moment when a raider came up on him while he was in the water. Chambering a bullet into her bolt action pipe sniper, the Raider took aim and shot at Samson.

Only to hit a tin can and have it ricochet off, hit a Corvega and ricochet again and then hit a Molotov on the Raider's belt. Samson saw the tin can jump, picked it up and looked inside for a fish before going on about his way. He was never wiser to the distant screams of the Raider burning to death.

***

Chapter 1.5

Richard Ryan/Howler's pov

A man who redefined war once said that war is cruelty, and it cannot be refined. That war is hell. Also, if William T. Sherman had the chance, he'd kill every reporter in the world but felt like if he did that he'd be getting reports from Hell before breakfast. I didn't kill any reporters but Hell likes to send the people I did kill in my dreams, like my dad. Mostly my dad. Sherman believed that the crueler a war was, the quicker it ended.

If only that were the case...

War is hell, Sherman once said. My father must not have it too bad down there then. Such a disappointment.

I strode through the wastes almost robotically as the others followed. My wolf cloak on, I was easy to spot from a distance. Cait was huffing as she came up from behind me. I always made her carry the duffle.

"Can't we take a break boss?"

"We're getting scouted."

She gave me a blank look as I kept walking.

"We're what?"

"Raiders with robots. The civi's are screwed." I stopped moving, turned to her and ordered, "Give me some Stealth Boys, toots."

She pivoted the bag away, as if I moved to take it. "What are ya plannin'? You're not leavin' me are ya?" She said this with a playful smile.

"Buyin' time." I declared, my Texan drawl showing it's color.

"Alright, alright, keep your shirt on."

I looked past her at Ashman as he directed the refugees. Poor George, I knew we were getting scouted for a while but if I told him sooner then the refugees would panic. Cait was the only person I trusted outside my squad mates, especially in combat. Despite her... habits she tries to hide, she has the coolest head out of everyone here when in a fight. She was so crass in fact, that when hellfire was coming like rain she merely mumbled a curse, casually picked up her winnings from arm wrestling and got my duffle bag.

I find that incredibly endearing. That, and I think she has the body of a goddess. Then there was her accent.

"Is it true that you never wash that thing? Your cloak?" She asked, handing me two Stealth Boys, chems, stims, four frag grenades, and my electrified Chinese officer sword.

"I'll tell you later. George!" He glanced at me, and knew from my posture that crap was about to hit the fan, "Rad storm's blowing in! I'll be back. There's a Monorail Station not far from here. That amusement park when we were kids?"

"You're the most useless scout ever, anyone ever tell you that?"

"They always said I was the best. No equals."

"Just get back 'ere in one piece, you stupid Texan." Cait said.

"Gotta give 'em a piece of me first darlin'."

And with that, I clicked on the Stealth Boy as the wind kicked up some dust. We were in an occasional dry patch of the Wasteland as my feet were crunching towards the Raiders hiding behind the hill. Once over the hill, I got a good look on all of them.

CRAP.

A dozen metal armored Raiders and six drugged melee kamikazes. Or, that's how I looked at them, suicidal idiots. I did that a lot during the Sino-American War, running into battle with only a Ripper after using everything else up. Hell, all I got right now is some nades and my sword. I closed in, and began counting the robots.

One sentry bot. Six eyebots. Four Protectrons.

The big-boy was in the center of the raiding party. I wasn't like Shades, our hacker and urban warfare specialist, I couldn't hack a Sentry Bot if my life depended on it. And right now? It did. If I could have hacked the bot, I would have essentially taken out the entire group. I did know where the batteries were though and Ashman is gonna need an extra fusion core or two for his stolen armor.

I'm doubting that I'll get out of here. Getting low, I snuck right past the Raiders and robots in broad daylight; my Stealth Boy doing wonders. Only the Sentry Bot stopped, muttering,

"Warning! Unauthorized-"

Then I threw open the back panel and ripped out a core. It was so fast that it actually didn't raise suspicion. The robot was salvaged after all and over two centuries old.

"Ugh!" A metal Raider groaned, his voice careful not to alert my party, "Did someone forget to put the power cores in that thing?! You-" he pointed at two kamikaze scrubs, "get it fixed."

The two raiders, a man and a woman went to the robot. I stood to the side, sweating as the group separated. The woman scrunched her nose as they climbed onto the bot.

"God, why does it smell like wet dog over here?"

"What," the metal raider said, just within earshot, "did you just say?"

It all unraveled when I heard another feminine voice, an Assaultron that I couldn't see. "The canine humanoid is not in the group."

I quickly smashed the scrubs head into the back panel of the Sentry Bot. She screamed as the electricity fried her from the inside out and shot her ten feet into the air. She was dead before she hit the ground. Next, I disemboweled the other Raider and threw a grenade into the back panel. While I ran, the man watched his insides fall into the dirt in his drugged stupor and mumbled a single curse before the grenade exploded. Shrapnel ripped his head clean off before the robot began to turn red with heat and exploded violently.

The metal Raider cursed and spat lead from his automatic assault rifle. However, the huge explosion kicked up enough dust to blind him as I used my last Stealth Boy. I heard the Assaultron scanning for me and charging a death ray but I couldn't see it! Pushing forward I expertly decapitated the metal raider and took his gun.

Now back on top of the hill, I witnessed the death ray of a second stealth Assaultron tear a family in half. The Raiders pushed hard and fast, putting the rest of the civi's proverbially to the sword. The eyebots distracted some stragglers while my party was getting mopped up.

They also didn't follow George. I heard gunshots in the direction I wanted everyone to go so Cait and George were going where I needed them. A cold chill came over me as I embraced the emptiness from inside. It was how I nullified my emotions as I howled. People have said the most terrifying thing about me wasn't my dire wolf cloak my great-grandfather kept in the attic, nor when I would snarl playfully; it was the far away look in my eyes as I wore the blood of my enemies. The lack of emotion as I killed in some of the most inhumane ways onlookers ever seen. The unknown void in my soul became my legend, my weapon even.

And ho boy, do these guys deserve it.

I stabbed my sword into the dirt and popped some buffats before tossing a frag at the small group of Protectrons. After that, I unloaded my stolen assault rifle into the surprised faces of the Raiders. I was the last thing they never see.

"Canine humanoid detected."

To my left, I saw the red light of a coming death ray, took my sword and rolled forward. The ensuing heat turned the ground under the laser into glass as I emptied my gun into the still invisible robot. I have no idea how much damage I did but I hit it a few times. No where near enough damage though.

I knew it was hot on my tail, I could hear the pistons pumping behind me. The cursed thing had locked onto me through my Stealth Boy. How in the hell do Raiders get two stealth Assaultrons?! Whacking the sword hilt on my leg as I ran, I pressed a button and my sword began to heat up. The whirring of a coming death ray grew louder until my sword was almost burning in my hand.

NOW!

I abruptly pivoted my body with my sword out and impaled the Assaultron through all its armor and electronics. With a metallic groan I spitefully ripped out the sword and hacked its head off. The built up energy released behind me and kicked up a bit of dust.

You know what was the scary thing? The whirring didn't stop. Next thing I knew I was tackled, looking eye to eye with death. He didn't blink, oh no, I told him a morbid joke like I always do and he leaves. No, a familiar Irish voice rolled in with a power fist.

After delivering a haymaker, the energy released. Death's face exploded in red and I laughed. More stories for Vadim, more stories indeed.


	6. From the Fire and into the Den

Richard Ryan’s pov

Blood spat into my face when a stray bullet nipped my savior’s side. She twirled into the dust when both reaction and instinct took over. We needed to stay down or we’ll get shot. Shoving the robot off of me, I leapt to a pipe pistol in the dust and jumped back after grabbing it. Still prone, I leaned up the dead robot as cover and started dropping opponents one by one. Only going for headshots, I only missed two or three times. After taking down four raiders with a pipe pistol the others got spooked and tactically retreated. Once they rally, they will come for us.

I could feel it.

Crawling over to Cait I draped her arm over me and started dragging her in the path towards the monorail system. We still had a lot of wilderness to cover before we were actually there. Cait grimaced after her foot slipped on a stone.

“I can walk all by myself Tex. It’s just a flesh wound.”

“Where’s the duffel?”

“I gave it to your power armor friend, George, Ashman- whoever he is.”

“Have you had your daily fix yet?”

“What-?” She groaned, but there was surprise there, “I-I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Just come on!” I spat.

“You’re bleedin’ too you know.”

“I don’t have time to bleed.”

My nerves hadn’t noticed it yet, but I knew shrapnel or a bullet was in my shoulder. I’m thinking it’s just metal debris from when bullets struck the robot I used for cover. Won’t know for certain until I get my clothes off and the adrenaline fades.

Cait seemed like she was correct about her wound. I cause or catch more wounds than I fix but from my expertise I think she’d be fine. The bleeding is bad though, I might shove dirt or some other plug into our wounds and run the risk of infection so we don’t pass out from blood loss. I’ve done it several times and only almost lost an arm once.

I was dragging her through the dust for what seemed like half an hour before bullets whizzed past my head. Instead of hitting the deck like I intended, we stumbled in our footing and tumbled down a ravine. The adrenaline and blood loss was catching up with me and all Cait could muster was a weak grunt when she hit the bottom next to me. With much effort I tried to get up but my vision was blurring before a boot put me back down.

“I’m gonna carve you up!” A Raider spat, “Wolfboy!”

Three Raiders circled Cait in the dust. Their eyes practically starved for the curves under her corset. Cait spat into the dirt and groaned, “Well? Do your worst already! You stupid rube!”1

“Well love,” one lesser Raider handed him a wrench, “if you insist.”

Everyone froze from the unique sound, a metallic growl that only belonged to one creature. The beast was one that was sentient. No, it was the sound of a death machine spinning into motion. It was the sound of the Ashmaker getting ready to kill.

The bullets sprayed out so fast that the sound blended into a purr. Our opponents were turned into spaghetti toppings from the waist up and George yelled, “Howler! You alright?!”

I picked a stray bone fragment out of my brow and shouted, “Yeah! Would you kindly toss us some Stimpaks!”

He hoofed over, minigun and duffel in tow. He was out of his power armor, the sun flashed on the blonde brute’s locks as he stimmed both of us. Stretching my back, good as new, I tossed him the spare core I stole saying, “We’re even.”

“You still owe me for Goodneighbor.”

I laughed and replied, “Boy, you owe me for talking Fahrenheit down after the Bobbi No-Nose incident.”

He smirked, “I could get you in trouble and you know it.”

George was one of the few people who knew of my feelings for Cait. Me and Ruven have been at odds ever since he had a fling with her in Goodneighbor. However, I was an adult. I knew that Cait and her boy toys were none of my concern but… my heart doesn’t agree with my head.

“But you value your life so hush.”

“Any others following?”

I glanced back at the stumps and remains of Raiders and deduced aloud, “Nah, where’s the power armor?”

“Ran out of juice in the amusement park parking garage.”

“So we’re close?”

“Good,” Cait groaned, “I’m itchin’ for a bath and a cold one in the nearest waterin’ hole.”

She and I were nearly covered head to toe in gore and blood splatters after the ordeal a moment ago. Dust stuck and smeared into a bloody mud on our clothes, skin and faces. While walking I casually flicked a tooth off of Cait’s shoulder and she cast me a look.

Was I imagining things? Or were her green eyes burning into mine? Hope, was a foolish thing to entertain. I hoped my father loved me but he cursed me even as he bled to death. I hoped Cait would turn my way but she instead sucked Ruven’s dick to get off. We didn’t speak until the wall of the parking garage sheltered us from the dust and wind.

“You never did say whether or not you ever clean that thing or not.”

“You would smell if I didn’t.”

Crap.

“I would smell? The hell-?” She laughed and I corrected,

“It would smell Cait. It would smell. That’s what I meant.”

We were walking towards the power armor & our Geiger counters started clicking. RadThunder roiled in the distance. A RadStorm was blowing in, the Glowing Sea not far from our area.

“Wait, you do clean it! Ho-ho! Wait till the boys hear about-“

A metal rock clunked at the foot of the stolen power armor. In an instant we all were under cover when the grenade exploded and lasers and bullets followed. It happened quick, but the Chinese stealth troops years ago were quicker. The experience and training from 200 years ago came to me like I finished it last night.

I yelled at Ashman, “Throw me the M1!”

He unzipped the bag and tossed me the rifle I found in a random Raider camp. A ratty looking but trusty rifle with “BoS The Belt” etched into the stock by knife point. He tossed me some stripper clips and I jammed one into the internal magazine. Releasing and letting the chamber smack shut, I glanced to Ashman and nodded. I was ready.

He prespun the minigun expertly, got up and threw out some lead. The sound in the somewhat enclosed space was deafening and my ear rung as I looped around for a flank. Nothing attracted aggro more than a big guy with a minigun with incendiary ammo so I passed around almost unnoticed. I ran halfway up the incline to the second floor and went prone. From my nook in the building I clearly saw the baddies and started mopping up where they were entrenched.

Eight rounds later, eight silhouettes dropped and my gun pinged. The only two survivors retreated while I reloaded. Once it was safe, I groaned and rolled over. Picking at my filthy face I wondered when we were going to catch a break.

That only fluttered through me before I picked myself up by my bootstraps and got up. Moping was never my style. We have had a horrible day so far however. Nowhere for me in this godforsaken wasteland was home; except where my squad called home and that was Sanctuary. Now it’s been put to the sword or worse… the torch.

Walking down the incline, I saw Ashman nudge a mangled piece of metal with his boot. Cait was already looting for supplies off the dead. I addressed George, “Is it fried?”

“It’s toast.”

Cait asked casually, raising her voice but not looking at us as she gathered items, “Aren’t those tin cans supposed to be bloody unstoppable? What’s the hold up?”

“Pop a firecracker near your hand and get burned a little. Close your fist around one and it’ll mess up your hand.”

“Da hell does that mean, Plato?” Cait asked.

“When the armor was open it was vulnerable to the grenade. The wires were partially melted when I lit it on fire at Sanctuary but now the wire harnesses, solenoids and the software controlling the hardware are garbage.”

“Can you repair it?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No time or tools.”

“Cait,” I half yelled, “find out who our ambushers were?”

“I don’t know!” She came back dragging something, no—someone. She tossed him, a gunner conscript, in between us, “Ask him yourself.”

The young man was maybe fourteen or fifteen. No armor, just a tan wife beater and combats. The kid’s shoes had holes in them and a bruising eye.

“Found him playing dead. Little runt thought he would get the jump on me.”

Cait’s been in a hundred plus fights, or so she says. She only lost one and that was to me but I haven’t seen anyone else more capable of taking care of themselves even if they were caught off guard. The kid didn’t have a wound on him and I asked,

“Let me guess, gunner conscript?”

He spat in my direction as his reply. I smiled, this should be fun. I have a talent for making the unwilling talk.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you stuck a grenade into a power Armor, what do you think it will do? I hope you enjoyed and don’t forget to vote for me as archHuman!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to thank franches, Eruch, and grey_waters as well as 5 guests who left kudos on this work!

**Ruven Allen’s pov**

Normally I have a talent for loosing the lips of a woman when I talk to them. Both upper and lower lips in fact, but Amata was one tight cookie. We were exiting out of the sinkhole through a dilapidated house whose basement collapsed into the caves. She didn’t say a word until I ripped the chains off the door and sunlight shone down on us.

“So where are you going now?” She asked.

“Diamond City. The biggest settlement in the Commonwealth.”

“Care if I tag along?”

“No problem here. I know a place not far from here that I cleared of Raiders some time back.”

“Think the Enclave are still after you?”

I shook my head as we headed south east. “No, I think we won’t need to worry about them for now. Keep your head on a swivel though.” The day was hot but not too bad considering. However, every day is a good day to kill something and if it wasn’t for this Amata woman I would have wanted the Enclave after me.

They wrecked my home, killed my people, and I wanted them to pay.

“Don’t rely on the hate to drive you.”

I glanced in the direction of the voice and my eyes landed on my companion.

“Excuse me?”

“Using hate for fuel all the time will turn you into a pessimistic loner no good to anyone.”

“Isn’t that what you are doing? Hunting and Enclave with extreme prejudice?”

“No,” she sassed, “I’m hunting and killing the Enclave while helping out along the way. Playing it smart as I can as well.”

“Dare I ask why the crusade?”

She just gave me a look with an arched brow before sighing.

“Susie Mack. Girl was tough as nails when it came to high school bullies but Enclave have several ways of melting or breaking nails. She was sent out scavenging after we opened our vault. We had just got out of two hundred years of isolationism and it wasn’t even two years and the Enclave found us.”

“So you and your father escaped?”

She scowled and said, “You’re trying to take one piece of a puzzle and make a whole picture, mister.”

“Sorry, sorry,” I said, “you asked if the Enclave was following me; so is your father’s killer following you?”

“After the Lyon Elder’s died, yeah.”

“The who?”

“The Brotherhood elders that spearheaded Project Purity. My… friend was there. They are err, were esteemed heroes. The Enclave attacked and we radioed for help. What else were we supposed to do? My friend pulled some strings and the Elder came herself with her Pride.” She was silent for a while, and added once we walked farther, “The Capital Wasteland was being struck by a plague never seen before at the time. Right when we got Aqua Pura, clean water, even ghouls caught the disease.”

“Amata,” I interrupted, “you’re zoning out.”

“Yeah!” She cleared her throat, and added, “Can’t get mopey when we gotta pay attention.”

“You’re not carrying the disease are you?” I play made a cross with my fingers and held it out like a ward against evil.

“Har-har, very funny. Where are we going?”

I pointed.

“That building is Joe Slocum’s Corporate HQ. Big coffee and donut chain like *Donuts’ Dunkin’.”

“Surprised, we haven’t been attacked or seen anything.”

“Minutemen are keeping an eye on the Super Mutants in the east of Malden.”

“Your men seem to be doing well.”

“They may have some bulletproof coats.”

“Now you're lying.”

“But it’s a trade secret where we get them from.”

Getting closer to the building I couldn’t help but feel eyes on me. I usually peer back from time to time but this time I strained my eyes to be sure. I saw a mirage next to a petrified husk of a tree and it didn’t seem to move.

Never seen one of those before.

We entered the HQ, the floor was swept, and the building was silent. Glancing back I eyed the mirage as Amata closed the door behind her. Shrugging it off, I kept walking towards the stash of Chem’s and supplies I had hidden here.

“Nice little spot to set up.”

“They certainly changed the place since the last time I was here.”

It was when we reached a small camp with three bedrolls a bluejay called outside. I haven’t heard bluejays in a while. The room was lit only with the light on the ceiling.

“Go ahead, make yourself at home.” I said, “I need to get something from an office.”

I walked over to where my stash was, pushed away a bookcase and revealed a fridge and safe concealed in the mortar. Opening it I got my usual Buffats, Psycho Jets, some regular Jet, Stims and a whiskey. Pressing a button, the pressure equalized in my helmet with a hiss before I removed it.

“There’s no food or water over here. Who would make a camp with no food or water nearby? And before you ask, yes; I checked all the possible hiding places.”

“Some things, don’t need food or water.” I bit out, taking a long gulp of my Jack.

“Everything needs food and water.”

“Not everything.” I added matter-of-factly as I popped a Buffat in my mouth. Putting an empty bottle of Jack down, I walked to a closet and twisted the knob on my radio to an old signal that I checked up on every so often.

Beeping came in reply.

Bones, dust and Minuteman gear laid in the floor of the closet.

I knew it.

Popping my neck, I took the needle of my psychojet and jabbed it into my neck with a grimace. I jammed my helmet back onto my head, pulled out Spray n’ Pray and controlled my pace. In a hushed voice I tried to tell Amata to get ready but then the light cut off.

Flicking on the red lights in my XO-1’s eyes, I saw Amata on the ground with a crunch. It was in Jet powered slow motion as the silolette threw a punch at me after slamming Amata. Catching the fist, I was pushed back a few inches, my other hand holding the SMG like a pistol and I hip fired into the enemy. I had fought these things before, the most skilled and ruthless enemies in the wastes. They weren’t man, nor animal, but pure killing machine.

Sparks and blood from the mini explosions reduced the robot into a twitching husk. I knew better however. Picking it up by the throat I growled, “It’s been two bloody centuries since a bluejay cawed.”

“I’m surprised,” the courser gurgled, his voice staticky but monotonous, a spark erupting from his chest, “you knew we were here all along didn’t you?”

“Where are the others?” I spat, it’s true that I knew that “mirage” wasn’t natural, so I suspected something was up. “Quit stalling.”

“Did you seriously think,” I squeezed harder, but the robot continued, “that destroying the Institute wouldn’t bring consequences?”

There was a blur in my peripheral vision and I twirled, tossing the courser into his ally. They smashed into each other, heat and blue light erupted from my back as I turned and spayed towards the laser targeting my fusion core. I was shot again in the back by the fleeing duo as my bullets tore into their coats and skin with little sign or effect.

It was deathly quiet for a moment and I snorted in disdain. Once sure I was safe, I went into the hall for the breaker; gun in hand. Kicking the power back on I turned off the flashlights in my helmet and took it off again.

My heart raced from the attack, my radio was silent on the coursers’ signals so they were long gone. I returned to Amata and assessed the damage. She was unconscious, and coughing blood. Pulling up gently, several splinters were in her from being embedded into the floor. Judging from the dent in her back after I rolled her over, the courser hit her in her kidneys like an ape and slammed her into the floor all in a second. Taking a med-x from my stash, I jabbed it and a Stimpak into the damaged area.

With a start, Amata twitched and vomited blood onto the floor. A sign of internal bleeding and ruptured organs. She screamed through grit teeth and managed, “Did they run?”

“Coursers never run,” I answered, “they only tactically retreat.” I added professionally, “Expect blood in the urine and stool for a few months. Are you suffering from abdominal pain?”

“What the hell does that mean?!”

“Expect to be pissing and crapping blood to be the new normal for the rest of the year, woman. Now are you suffering from abdominal pain or not?”

She grimaced, “Y-yes.” She tilted her body and looked into my face saying, “You know, I think that’s the first time I saw your face.”

I smirked, combing my sweaty helmet hair to the side with my hand, “We’re even.”

  
  


***

  
  


**Richard Ryan/ Howler’s pov**

  
  


Well I had stolen a fusion core for nothing it seemed. Our power armor was stolen junk, and I just found out that we had an alert team of gunners. The boy told us all about the conscripts, two officers and commander, and Gunner commanders had power armor.

After he told us everything I had Cait strangle him. The boy now had no fingers on one and a half hands anyways. George never had the stomach or was a fan of interrogations and deep down, neither was I. The boy didn’t do anything wrong, he wasn’t given a choice when the gunner’s ripped him from his family farm. Maybe he was raised by scavvers before the gunners came. I didn’t know, and I would never know; all I know is once an enemy is dead don’t think about them or what they could have left behind. I’ve had friends kill themselves over festering guilt about doing what needed to be done.

And I always did what needed to be done. I like the dirty work or… I act like I do. This is me, the ravenous wolf of the wastes. Ruven Allen’s right hand man. Whether the work was clean or dirty I was there with him through it all like his shadow.

Not many know what Ruven was truly capable of. Macready and Cait know. Oh, and Hancock. We had busted a drug deal. Lied to the ghoul about letting her live, killed Malcom’s drug peddling son and confiscated the chems for ourselves. Hancock didn’t like that much, we had a big spat over it and he hasn’t traveled with us since.

Sometimes I wonder, has all the things we’ve down really been necessary? Someone called my name but my thoughts continued. Do I even have a right to question his morals when I’ve strangled people with their own entrails in open battle? All for theatric’s sake? Did the cruelty really save lives and make things quicker?

A leg kicked my shin and my eyes darted up to Cait’s, “You’ve gone deaf of somethin’? Quit looking at the blood on your hands and get a move on. Ashman isn’t a good scout and needs ya.”

Blood on my hands? Oh, yeah. I remember breaking and tearing that kid’s fingers off by hand now. The blood was dried but I still tried to wipe it away on my now ratty pants. I tried not to think about him and still got roped down the dark soldier’s memory lane.

Pushing myself up from the car I was propped against, we left the dead kid in the trunk. Meeting up with George, he was keeping watch as the Radstorm roiled. Green lightning arced between a Bottle and Cappy statue in the distance when I asked, “You want me to go out there?”

“It’ll be easier for you to sneak up and find them.”

“I bet they’re holed up somewhere waiting out the storm.”

“Or they’re out there coming to surprise us while we wait out the storm.”

“George, I’ll be alone out there.”

“If I had half as much faith in God as I do you I’d be a blonde wasteland Moses.”

“You’ll owe me one.”

He turned back and peered at Cait as she sat on the hood of a Corvega and picked out a splinter of her arm. He added in a teasing whisper,

“I’ll put a good word in for you with Cait.”

“That ain’t funny George.”

He chuckled, “It is to me. Now go get ‘em, Howler.”

“I bet Roger is kissing Fahrenheit right now.”

George frowned, “That’s not funny Richard.”

“It is to me, partner. Why didn’t you stay in Goodneighbor with her?” I asked.

“After Malone, the Shroud crap, the Ruskie Kingpin? Too much blood. It’s gotta catch up with you eventually you know?”

“I know what you mean. The memory den, Nick bein’ possessed by Kellog for a second. Too many memories for me.”

“In the hotel when Ruven and Cait-“

“You shut your mouth.” I spat and George laughed.

“I teased you enough, get a move on.”

With a grunt, I went to the duffel and popped some Rad-X. Searching the bodies, I stripped off a gas mask from the dead to further help keep down Rads. No grenades from this bunch but I bet the commander might have some. Twisting my stiff back there was a taut snap and I rolled my shoulders; getting ready to move.

“Ugh, this thing smells like a bucket o’ piss.”

My head swirled to the muffled Irish voice behind me and Cait was walking to me with a looted laser rifle in hand. Even though her face was covered by a gas mask, the skin on the smooth of her neck was paler than normal. Wondering how she was still standing, my eyes drifted to the red area on her wrist. An aggravated spot close to her hand told-tale of her sneaking a shot of Psycho into her system.

“Cait, you know I work better alone.”

“Like hell ya do. You nearly died not a few hours ago Tex. Besides, I need to keep my adrenaline pumpin’.”

“I killed over a dozen men, a sentry bot, and a cloaked assaultron by myself.”

“Yeah and almost died you stupid mutt. I’m comin’ with ya whether you like it or not.”

Our eyes burned into each other’s through our masks in clashing determination. Finally I sighed and dismissively waved for her to follow with my hand. She followed closely behind me and I was kinda glad to have her by my side.

And none of that gladness was because she was a good scout.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, “I can’t even see two feet in front of me. How in the hell can you see through this?”

“I have decent perception and have always been a Night Owl. Was used to the dark because every time I had to run from the law after a bar fight. Was a wanted man when I joined the army.”

“What did you do to get the law on ya? Other than the fights o’ course?”

“You’ve seen how good I am with knives and blades.” I finished darkly.

Debris was kicked up behind me and before I knew it instinct took over. I whirled around and had my knife out and nearly stabbed Cait in her aorta. We both mumbled curses and she spat in a hushed voice,

“What the hell was that Howler? We’re on the same team!”

“I’m used to being alone, I thought you were someone sneaking in on me. Walk quieter.”

“I nearly tripped! You know I can’t see out here!”

“And that’s why,” my voice harsh as I sheathed my knife, “I told you to stay back!”

She went silent a moment and added, “I’m just trying to help, don’t you see that?”

Regret hit me in the gut and I stammered, “N-now Cait I didn’t-“

A loud but distant voice wafted down to us on the winds and I cut my talk short. The voices grew closer, as well as the sound of barking. Tracking dogs. The kid didn’t tell us about that.

“Follow the dog!” Someone yelled.

I gripped Cait by the hand and led her behind some cover saying, “Stay here.”

“Like hell-“

“Look, you can’t see. I can. Once the storm clears up I’ll be exposed. Help then, Cait.”

With that, I left her there and disappeared into the green haze. The first thing I did once away from Cait was shoot the dog with my M1. The upper half of its head was removed and the Gunners shot blindly towards my location. After the shooting paused I went back, looped around a Corvega and went up an incline of rubble to get around them as they shuffled towards my previous location.

As long as I didn’t knock down any rocks I should be good. I was getting around them and Cait was still hidden in the storm. A spotlight suddenly flashed past and I crouched down below another Corvega. Looking through a rusted out hole, I spotted the commander. He was the one with a spotlight on his power armor.

If he flashes me or Cait with that we were done for. Four lackeies watched the commander’s flanks, two on one side and two on the other. Taking out my sword from the sheathe parallel to my spine I  _ Blitzed  _ forward. Jabbing the button built by Ruven into the pommel into my thigh my electric sword built up heat as it went into overdrive. Like a hot knife through butter my serrated sword maimed one, disemboweled another, cut the next in half and decapitated the last one.

It happened so fast that the commander twirled around only to see his men holding their guts, bleeding to death, and screaming in pain. The commander shouted a curse and blasted into the haze and shadows. There were still a dozen of them in total. The odds still weren’t good.

“Sit tight men!” Then the commander turned off his spotlight. As he fingered his helmet I couldn’t tell what he was doing. Why did he turn off the spotlight? He turned about almost… scanning until he looked at me.

Immediately he lifted his battle rifle and shot past my head. Turning on the spotlight, he charged full tilt towards me and shouted, “I got you!”

I realized too late that he had turned on his targeting HUD and locked onto me. Cussing, I started running as my overdrive ran out. I wasn’t going to be able to use it for some time. While running I grabbed my pipe pistol and the stolen power core. Turning, mid-run, I took some pot shot and did as was expected.

Nothing.

More than that, I stumbled into a trash can and tumbled into the cement. The commander hip fired at me while running and bullets pinged around me. Shooting up to my feet, I fled around a corner into a soda bar. My feet crushed an old skeleton with a dress and teddy bear near by as I trampled in. Looking right, looking left, I was thinking on my feet as a walking tank stomped closer. Cussing, I tossed the fusion core onto the tile floor and shot it twice before leaping behind the soda bar counter. Crashing through the wall the commander said, “It’s over-“

Then he noticed the fusion core and screamed. I only heard the explosion for a tenth of a second before the sheer power released threatened to knock me out. In the army, I learned it wasn’t always the shrapnel that killed a man. The sheer energy of an explosion can rupture organs instantly. Power armor was strong enough to withstand conventional fragmentation grenades but a fusion core? The operator would need medical attention if he didn’t get stimmed up right away. Power armor was strong, but humans were weak.

In the chaos, the explosion bumped a music box or vinyl player and Sid Philips’ song Boogie Man started playing. The counter was obliterated, really, the small building was turned into splinters. Next to me, in my half blind and recovering state was a double action revolver. It had a short scope and was really the best western revolver I’ve seen. Not the usual .44, but I checked the cylinder and only found one bullet. Pushing myself to get up I hobbled over to the commander as he groaned; my equilibrium all screwed up. The explosion had blasted him 30 yards (27.5 meters); in fact, I almost tumbled into a fire the explosion had caused. Sunlight was beating down on me now through the smoke.

Reaching for the leather holster under his arm the commander struggled with aiming a short double barrel and I kicked it out of his hand. He looked at me, a defeated tone in his voice when he spat,

“Do it.”

To be honest, I barely heard him. My ears bleeding from the explosion in an enclosed space, I twirled the cylinder on my revolver with a smile on my face.

“Okay.”

Click.

He cursed at me. Click.

His body was shaking with rage. Clack.

Finally he screamed, “DO IT!” That’s when the .44 at point blank range punched through the T-45’s visor and disappeared. I got off of him, his body going through death throes and picked up his shotgun when I heard the laser rifle shooting.

Cait.

It took me a second to suck my brain up my nose and I started sprinting towards her location. I also realized that the soldiers didn’t follow their leader. That was probably because Cait started shooting once I was made. Arriving behind the six remaining gunners, I realized that Cait managed to put a Corvega into neutral and roll it into four of the gunners. She winged two who were critically wounded by her laser rifle.

I crept up behind one who flinched as each bullet pinged off of Cait’s location. She had an electric baton until I kicked the back of her knee, gripped her nappy dirty blonde hair and shoved it through a window. I jabbed her neck on the glass and it stabbed into her throat, sending her rolling around in her blood. Taking her baton I crept closer to the others.

“Guys!” One shouted, “I think she’s outta ammo!”

“Charge her!”

Cussing, I slung my M1 off my back and shot the remaining five as fast as I could. I only got three and missed the furthest two as they disappeared over the hill. Running up the hill, my boots heavy from exhaustion on the cement, I heard Cait yelling, “Come at me you cunts! C’mon! Let me show you why your parents never loved ya!”

Not bothering to reload, I tossed my M1 down and took the shotgun I had tucked in my pants in my hands. The officer turned back and before he could bring his gun around my shot removed his arm. I shot again, spilling him into the dirt, and realized I screwed up.

The other officer didn’t notice. His back was turned when he grabbed Cait and twirled her around as a body shield. Gun to her temple he spat, “Put the gun down!”

“Your commander is dead.” I held the gun in a manner more visible, “Took this off his corpse. How about you drop it and be the sole survivor of this wreck of a day?”

Cait’s eyes flickered around desperately while the Gunner concentrated on me. She noticed the body, the damage of two shots from a double barrel, and the bluff before he did.

“Oh my God, you  _ BLOODY  _ idiot!”

“Cait shut up!”

“I swear to God I’m going to kill you Howler!”

The gunner whacked the pommel into Cait’s temple shouting, “Quiet!”

My mouth went dry, my vision went red and I went silent. Cait knew this silence well and groaned, “You’re dead now,” she added, “his gun ain’t loaded but you’re so dead.”

The gunner’s head snapped up and once he caught the bluff he extended his gun arm.

And it was at this moment that he was finished.

Cait reached up and flipped him over her shoulder. I lunged forward, tore the laser pistol from his arm, held him in the dirt with my boot and pulled up on his arm behind his back. Not stopping when he was screaming, not even when I felt his arm dislocate in my hands. I never stopped even when I shot the shoulder with the laser pistol, weakening the tendons, and through sheer rage I tore his arm off. Beating him, I didn’t stop even when he stopped moving.

Pictures of the men I hated, me, my father, they floated through my mind.

I was blind to the fact that I had beat his head in so much both his eyes were gone. He was unrecognizable when I came to, my knuckles were bleeding too. When did I start punching him? Tossing the arm down, his head made a wet sound when I gave it a final kick.

Looking at the wet blood in my hands I tried to wipe them off on my filthy clothes. I walked down the street behind the Corvega I knew Cait was resting behind. The gas mask hung at her neck, and almost all skin visible to the eye was covered in mud made from dust and blood. Her tired green eyes bore into mine and her face was almost soft under the filth. The adrenaline rush had left her and her breathing was heavy. I tore my eyes away, a pang of guilt from what I just did passing through me.

That’s all it does though. Pass. Then once the guilt passes it’s gone. A little stays and adds to the pile but it’s gone. I’ll brag about it later to scare recruits or something. Cait knew though, I don’t know how, but she knew that what I just did wasn’t healthy. Maybe she had done the same thing to scare the Raiders at the Combat Zone. Put up an act, make a scare, and it ends problems before they start. What I just did though, was snap; some sort of psychological break. No one was watching, no one could know.

“Hey, you alright Tex?”

I was just staring into space, the thousand or two-thousand yard stare people called it. I just nodded my head. Unable to say anything unless… something broke.

She gripped my shoulder and said, “Hey, look at me.”

I took a deep breath, took my mask off, tossed it in agitation and my blue eyes burned into her green ones. When she saw the darkness, life just drained from my eyes, she just mumbled a curse, scooted closer and just held me. That was when something else in me snapped and I just started crying.


End file.
